Hey guys this is my first story and if anyone finds it offensive in any way I’m sorry. I don’t really know how my words will affect people yet so if any of this comes off as offensive to anyone of a certain sexual preference I apologize. I’m just writing a story. There is going to be a huge backstory to this before things start to heat up. Also hate to be a spoiler but there is no gay sex in this sorry to burst anyone’s bubble. However if people REALLY enjoy this story I will probably continue this one however I can’t promise I will be very fast. So without further ado…Chapter 1The Beginning
“He’s going away for a very long time son; you no longer have to worry” Said my mother Karrie. My father Darrell said the same as they kept telling me how sorry they were for letting him do all of those awful things to me right under their noses. I didn’t really care that they didn’t notice. No one ever really notices that serial rapists are family members, but one thing that I thought I knew was that I liked gay sex. However, I had no idea how uncertain I really was.
Now I must go back and explain who I am and what my story is. My name is Joe and at age 12 I had finished High School already and was a junior at MIT having accomplished masters in Computer Science, Biological Engineering, and soon to add Chemical Engineering to the list while having minors in Architecture, Electrical Engineering, Biology, and Women’s and Gender Studies. That last one was mainly just to get a kick out of my gay roommate Joshua, who was a senior at the time and getting ready to graduate. I really didn’t even ever need to get a post-secondary education as I was already endowed with trusts in my name. My pro basketball-playing parents had set up a fund for me when I was a child. I was basically a billionaire already. Now I know what you’re thinking, “wow what an obnoxious little shit,” but to be honest I didn’t really care about the money. I just enjoyed a challenge.
So now I assume you’re wondering where the part about me deciding I’m gay comes in. I was 12 at the time and it was during summer break. I had to go stay the summer with my crazy Uncle Tony. “Crazy” because he always seemed very odd to people; something was just off about him, but no one could figure him out.
It had been Wednesday, the first day into my junior year’s summer break. I thought I was going to be bored as hell stuck with Uncle Tony like always, but this year he decided to take me out to his cabin in upstate New York and make me build some character because I was after all a scrawny, pale white, freckled, 4’11”, 95 pound, geek. His last task for me had been to clear a 10 acre plot of heavily wooded area for him. I was only halfway through when I already had blisters all over my hands from swinging the axe and shoveling the stumps out and lifting the stumps over to one corner of the plot. After he finished having me chop up all the trees for firewood, yeah you heard me right I thought he was insane at that point too believe me, he had me start digging 2 holes: both 6 to 7 feet deep, 8 feet long, and 3 feet across. That night I noticed dead patches of grass on the field around his cabin as we made our way back for supper. I got an eerie feeling, I don’t know why. After the longtime family recipe, Irish stew, was finally done we sat down to eat. Mid-way through the meal I finally worked up the courage to ask him what I had dug the holes for. He simply replied “I always knew you were too smart for your own good…”
I found out later on not only had he actually tossed me into one of the holes but had started burying me alive before the FBI had finally made it to where he was burying me. I still remember the face of the female officer who dove in to pull me out for the paramedics. Her face reminded me of an angel but I later realized that was me mostly disoriented from his beating me. Technically speaking I was dead for about 30 seconds at one point but the first time paramedic who refused to lose his first person on day one stole the paddles away from his 14 year superior after he declared me dead. He turned it to full power and blasted me and well here I am. It was a medical miracle considering I’d been dead for so long.
Needless to say the other patches of dirt were other kids and so you kind of can understand why I knew no one would ever see my uncle wearing anything but orange ever again. Turned out he made a plea bargain to confess to all of it in order to live in general population. Not a good choice by him, seeing as how a week after he got in he got raped and shanked to death by inmates for his sickening deeds. Yeah, it really is true that molesters usually don’t survive long in general population in prison.
I didn’t go back to school at MIT; my parents were making me sit out a year due to the event. Joshua, my old roommate, came by to our Boston home quite often to check up on me. One day during the rest of that summer I decided, in my terribly shaken state still due to the rape, that I was going to be gay. I told Joshua I wanted to be gay and he told me that being gay wasn’t really a “choice” to be made but that he would help me learn the basic things I needed to know, starting with why my wardrobe needed a makeover. So after a few months of him teaching me all the ins and outs of fashion, I decided that dressing up to look gay was just not in my bag. Don’t get me wrong I was really good when it came to fashion sense but I just loved my nerdy style too much. I couldn’t give up my big bang theory Bazinga T-shirts and yodaism jackets. Regardless Joshua and I really became good friends after all the bonding we had done. My father got a better job opportunity in a little Podunk town in Texas that was growing at a quite fast rate. The area had lots of housing construction in the making, which actually allowed both of my parents a better opportunity for work. Dad quickly leapt at the job to get farther away from the place he felt the most pain for me and my suffering.
My birthday is in August so I am 13 now. Unfortunately, my parents decided to make me go to middle school for one year then to high school to develop social skills and bond with kids close in age with me. Since my family was living in Texas at this time, football was the only thing and everything in our town. I however, at age 13 was still only about 110 pounds and 5 ‘2 so I was still a runt and this did not bode well for me socially towards guys. Being the scrawny geek I was I got shoved in trash cans and lockers constantly; Mostly from Brad, the high school football coach’s son who felt entitled to owning middle school and then later on, high school.
One day, I was walking down the hall trying to avoid Brad‘s group on my way to Spanish when they saw me and ran up and cornered me. They started beating me up and kicking the shit out of me.
“Hey I need an extra lunch. Give me your lunch money ya little fag.”
“Yeah give him your lunch money you little fag” mimicked his posy sidekick.
Not letting up, they continued to beat the shit out of me when all of a sudden I heard thundering footsteps charging towards me. That’s when two of the posy’s’ heads slammed into the wall. I saw that a huge gruff man child at 6’4” had taken them by their heads and bashed them into the wall. That’s when the rest of them ran off as the man child gave a small chase just to kick the ass of a slow running Brad who yelped when he felt the smack of the man child’s boot. The man child proceeded to help me up, then simply walked off never even giving me his name or time to thank him. I never saw him again after that because I had to rush to get to class on time. Brad stopped bothering me for a while after that nearly till freshman year, but soon enough he was back to his old ways.
I must confess, I’ve never had any sexual feelings towards a guy. I didn’t really know myself at all. I had never experienced high school in a social setting, so there was no way for me to express myself and really explore my sexuality. I believe that my outward feelings about my sexual orientation were only created for me to feel like a normal human being. However, inwardly I knew that my sexual feelings originated from my… Incident.
Through middle school I found that my self-proclaimed gayness was very helpful socially towards women and eventually so many liked me that they forced all the guys to stop picking on me. Me being the only gay kid in this little town out in the boonies of Texas wasn’t very rough on me emotionally because although I continued to claim that I was gay, I was beginning to accept that it was probably me letting the trauma of what happened to me continue to fester in my mind. Being gay led me to be very popular with all the girls at first, but soon by freshman year in high school they had all forgotten about me. I was once again an outcast and Brad was once again able to plunder my lunch money.
However, this was not particularly bad news for me. It gave me plenty of time to lock myself in at home and really get back to my grassroots love of being a geek. I was able to catch up on all the new videogames and comic books. My father, who ended up going into the hall of fame as one of the most dominant centers of all time in the NBA, disliked how much time I spent indoors, so I was forced outside every day for 2 hours after both my parents got home to play a game of 2 on one against my father with mom on my team. My mother was the first WNBA player to win four WNBA championships and four MVP awards for her dominant display of shooting ability out of the power forward position in her first six seasons before retiring only six years into her career to be with my father. She had also won 3 women’s college national championships her freshman, junior, and senior years out of Notre Dame University. My father as well had attended all four years of college at Notre Dame University before going pro. This meant both were huge proponents of finishing out school, unlike the ‘air headed players’ had been doing, hoping to get the big bucks now rather than have a fallback for when their careers tanked.
Now as you may have noticed there must be a story behind my parents love seeing as how my mother dropped a successful basketball career to be with my father who had actually gone to her college. They had both attended school at the same time. They were in lots of the same classes together as well due to the near similar scheduling of college basketball for both sexes. My father was attaining an engineering degree while my mother was trying for an architecture degree. Due to some of the overlaps in these degrees such as physics, geometry, and such they found themselves spending lots of time together studying for their classes. Soon they began dating and the whole thing turned into a gushy-lovey-dovey “we met and fell in love at college” story…Until they were drafted to different parts of the country that is. They didn’t even try the whole long distance thing but they kept in touch until one day my mother said she just couldn’t take it anymore and dropped everything so she could be his again.
Now back to me. When second semester hit I had a huge growth spurt that lasted well into mid-summer, by the end of which I was 6’2” and 165 pounds. This didn’t come as a shock to my 7’4” dad and 6’9” mom. Oddly to me though they both found it hilarious when month after month of buying new clothes my clothes would start to bust at the seams all over again. I for one found it thoroughly frustrating. By the start of junior year after another growth spurt I was 6’9” and 210 pounds. I had decided during that summer to start working out since I realized I could be able to not only to stand up to my previous bullies but probably even put them in their place.
My workouts had been very lack luster at first until I found a drop set workout routine online. To those of you who do not know what that is, it’s a hardcore bulk building 3 to 4 week long workout routine. After that ended I had reached about 225 pounds of mostly bulky yet still pretty flabby muscle. I went on another drop set routine that was for people who had done them before so that it could be even more challenging and have longer lasting effects. I also decided to couple that with a running routine. By the end of summer my pure muscle body was 260 pounds and I reached 7’2” had me resembling a Greek god.
When school came it was time for me to pick all my classes. I was only allowed to pick electives, given that they didn’t want me patronizing all my math, science, reading and writing teachers after having taken more advanced courses than theirs at MIT already. This had worked in previous years as there were bountiful classes to take and I even enjoyed taking 6 language courses. I was now able to speak halfway decent Spanish, French, German, Mandarin, Hebrew, and could read Latin nearly fluently. So now that I had already blown through all of those I had to take a double blocked class to fill the 4 period’s minimum of classes’ requirements. We had an A-B day schedule that had four classes one day and four classes another day. I signed up for marching band. However, although I was talented with my instrument, I was kicked out quickly after enrolling because I was too big and knocked over others during marches. Next, I tried my hand at orchestra but on the first day I tripped on the weird cracked tile everyone knew about but me and broke 2 kids’ Chellos. Finally on the third day of school, my worst nightmare came true the counselor made me try out for athletics.
When I walked in the only sport currently in season was football. The color was already draining from my face when I walked into the field house and Coach McGarrett saw me and started walking towards me. I don’t think he could believe it when he realized I was the new geek that had been forced to try out.
He looked me up and down and stuttered “Are y-you J-Joe?”
I thought he was gonna wet his pants out of excitement and when I answered “yes” timidly. ~
He tried to get a grip on his excitement and hid his smile by sending me down the hall to get dressed. As I was walking in the locker room door I heard a loud holler of joy behind me and I realized it must have been coach. As soon as I walked in I started getting the stares and soon almost all of them started to recognize me. A few minutes later after I had gotten all my equipment Brad and his gang saw me. They had been the worst of the jocks who bullied me. They started for me when coach walked in and Brad who is also the coach’s son oddly enough tried to tear into his father.
“What the fuck is wrong with you dad?! This is the gay kid that…”
“Boy what did just say to me?!” shouted coach.
Brad realized his slip up too late and tried to apologize “I’m sorry Pa I didn’t mean to…”
THWACK! Was all anyone heard as coach’s trusty playbook smacked the backside of his son’s head.
The locker room bust out laughing at Brad’s misfortune until coach yelled out “oh since y’all think that shit is so funny why don’t all y’all little ass clowns help me get back to my happy place by running around Tommy Lee’s gas station, and if y’all aren’t back in an hour and ten minutes y’all will run again!”
Tommy Lee’s gas station was six miles away and it had always been coach’s favorite punishment run spot. The room was dead silent and no one moved. “First one back doesn’t have to run if the rest of you don’t make it back in time.”
Everyone including me high tailed it for the door. When I finally got out the door, I realized I was quite far behind the leaders and quickly accelerated to catch up and get ahead. Soon without realizing, I was pulling ahead of the rest at an alarming rate and was nowhere near getting winded. I knew from how I felt running I was nowhere near top speed by any means and could not figure out why I was seemingly booking it compared to the others. This was when I first realized how powerful and strong I had become over the summer. I hadn’t realized it because I had no one to compare abilities with and had no athletic perspective. I throttled back and stayed in the lead for the rest of the run, except for Bart who had been the fastest wide receiver in town up until now; he actually ran with me for most of the run. I ended up beating everyone else by a quarter of mile at the end of the 12 mile run, except for my running mate Bart.
When coach saw me he jumped. It had only been 45 minutes and I saw the excitement in his eyes grow when he saw the next runners make it back almost a full minute later. He had us suit up in our pads once everyone made it back.
Once we were out on the field coach came up to me.
“Okay now boy, we are a small town, so we don’t have the numbers to field a full single position team. What do you play offensively and what do you play defensively?” he asked.
“Umm….. Well….Sir… I’ve… Never played before… But I’ll play whatever you want me to and I won’t disappoint. ” I said lacking confidence to start but ending on a strong note.
He burst into hardy laughter at my words and said “Well son, I think I can find you a place where you can fit right in,” as he walked me over to the running backs group. He left me there with coach Johnson, who was baffled when I couldn’t figure out where to run when he sent me in for reps. He quickly cut me and sent me to the receivers group with Coach Kay who also seemed confused when he noticed that I wasn’t running the right routes until Bart, my “running mate”, took pity on me and informed him the fact that I’d never played before. Coach gave me his playbook with all play names, routes, and audibles in it and sent me to the bench to study them for the rest of practice. Bart was a 7’4, 240 pound guy who was in the same grade as me. He had definitely been one of the guys who had never picked on me and that was something I truly liked about him. As you all should know by now, I have an extremely special ability to remember everything I see, hear, smell and touch, so within the next 5 minutes my learning the routes and plays and such were already done. I walked up to coach Kay and said “Hey coach I’m done.”
He laughed and said “no you ain’t son! I just sent you over there!” He tried to send me back to the bench but I stopped him and told him I was really done and that I had already learned all of the plays.
“Yes I am coach. I’m done, now put me in.” I yelled at him.
His face scrunched up as he said “Okay, but you make one mistake and I’m sending you to do laps around school until the end of practice!”
Once I got into the huddle and they called the play, the ball was hiked and I proceeded to whoop the defense’s ass until the end of practice.
The coaches called me into their office and told me to sit down. As I sat they began talking amongst themselves and finally they spoke up and asked me if I was boosting or doping; maybe even using HGH or steroids or even a combination of all of them.
I started laughing hysterically. I thought to myself ‘are these guys stupid or something? Why in my right mind ever consider using something so dangerous to alter my body?!’ Then I realized how pissed off they were and Coach McGarrett stood up and said “What’s so funny. This is serious shit you little dumb ass, tell us right now!”
I couldn’t stop laughing but I did tell them during my laughter “How insane do you all think I am? I just hit a few growth spurts and started working out over the summer.”
“My mom is 6’9” and my dad is 7’4″. I have already attended MIT. I’m just here to ‘Work on my social skills and bond with my peers’.”
Once my little Doctor Evil air quote impersonation got them to laugh, I just flat out told them my whole story, and as soon as I finished they all started to sigh with relief. They let me go after I had finished. However one thing I had left out of my story was the rape and being gay part because that really wasn’t important to the situation at hand.
I felt at the time that it was probably best to withhold this information from them for the good of our relationship. Inside I knew it was really me trying to avoid the topic altogether despite the hours my psychiatrist spent listening and speculating and reminding me to be open with others. Suddenly images flashed through my mind like movie clips. “I always knew you were too smart for your own good…” Then there were the smells. Oh by far the worst part of my tragedy were those horrid smells. I could just smell his dirty rank spreading through my nostrils. I was beginning to convulse from the feeling that I was going to chuck my guts everywhere. I excused myself and ran to the locker room bathroom to get my legs back. I washed my face with some cold water to clear my head and to more importantly clear my nose, for the unforgettable stench was unbearable. Finally, I left the locker room to leave and get on the bus that would take me home.
I caught up with Bart, who actually lived in my neighborhood and rode the same bus as me. I thanked him for saving me today and he said “Oh don’t mention it. I just know all the other guys pick on you and I didn’t think it was right.” We chatted for a while and soon came to find we enjoyed much of the same things and that he was really a geek at heart. He started telling me about his family’s story of coming over to America during World War II and how they had passed as Aryan Germans although they were really a full blooded Jewish family. His mother was a big organizer at the local synagogue and even though Bart’s father was Catholic, his father made him grow up reading the Torah. A promise to his mother’s parents was that “at least the first born would have to be raised Jewish.” I laughed as he told me this because this is the first time I noticed his super curly dirty blonde hair and light blue eyes. He took no offense at my laughter and even joked how the Germans must have mistaken the super curls on his great grandparents’ heads as some sort of weird bed head. Then I decided to mess with him for a second and reply in Hebrew for the rest of the conversation. I had been responding in Hebrew for a while and he hadn’t noticed that we had completely switched over to speaking Hebrew for the entire conversation until another teen, an oddly familiar 6’1” portly boy with huge, muscular arms, who weighed no less than 320 pounds, and who came from a family of German descent spoke up.
“Hey, are you two making fun of me and my culture?” As we sat there laughing at him and explaining what had transpired, we all started talking and ended up bonding into a nice little bus buddy group. We found out his name was Dirk and that he had just gotten back into public school after being in juvy since the last half the final year of middle school for beating the shit out of some kid’s back in the 8th grade.
Waiting for the bus to let on the last girl, I looked up and saw her. I knew she was a cheerleader that had quit cheerleading in her sophomore year even though she was the most popular girl on the team. I never really knew why she quit, but prior to that I hadn’t cared because she was Brad’s girlfriend. For some reason at that very moment I did care as I watched this dirty blonde, slightly curly haired woman with deep blue eyes and an angel face walk with her perfect long legs leading up to her cute little ass that was hardly covered by anything in her daisy dukes. I figured out why I like her so much as soon as she got on the bus and I noticed what was on her shirt. On the top it had 2 arrows pointing in towards the cleavage of her ample C to D breasts. Underneath them, it read ‘Geek On These’. Bart chuckled when he noticed me staring and said “Hey bud, I thought you were gay! After seeing the way you are ogling at my twin sister, I think I just witnessed a gay guy turn straight!” ….
(To be continued…? Please rate and comment and criticize all comments and concerns are reviewed by me. Comments on grammar and spelling will not be taken with head because I am not a professional writer nor do I plan to become one. Also if anyone has any suggestions those are always taken into considerations. RATE POSITIVELY)

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